


For Better or Worse

by PrettyTheWorld



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brian is stubborn, Cancer Arc, Canon Compliant, Gap Filler, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 22:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17875826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyTheWorld/pseuds/PrettyTheWorld
Summary: Justin takes care of Brian. Brian (begrudgingly) lets him.Canon-compliant gap filler between 4.09 and 4.10, set somewhere after, "Get your ass back in bed, you son of a bitch and eat some fucking chicken soup."





	For Better or Worse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TrueIllusion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueIllusion/gifts).



> For K, who helps me stay motivated to keep writing outside of Gift Exchange season (and who suggested I should write a S4 cancer arc gap filler, since she'd run out of others to read) =P

The loft had been quiet for about two hours. Justin smiled down at the sketch on his pad, feeling pleased with his progress toward the next issue of Rage. After cleaning up the remnants of his chicken soup preparation, he’d settled down on a pillow in semi-discrete view of the bedroom, hoping to use his time wisely. It had been tempting to curl up in bed with Brian, but after their earlier exchange, he’d decided it might be wise to allow a little space for the time being. Brian hadn’t thrown him out again, but he was still smarting from being so obviously bested by his relentless partner.

Justin realized there was also the possibility that when Brian woke up, he could change his mind about letting him stay. It was clear all the fight had drained out of him earlier, but if he felt more rested later, there was no telling how he’d choose to move forward. Justin could really only hope for the best.

A moan about twenty minutes later indicated that Brian had woken up, and a muttered, “Oh fuck,” a few seconds later suggested that he was not, in fact, rested at all.

“Brian? Do you need anything?” Justin asked carefully.

Brian didn’t respond, instead quickly catapulting himself out of bed and into the bathroom, pulling the door shut hastily behind him. The subsequent acoustics left no mystery as to what came next.

Justin tried not to pay too much attention, but it was hard not to hear, and he winced. It was clear that Brian was experiencing a lot of discomfort, and there was nothing Justin could really do to help. Surprisingly, despite his significant experience with Brian “overdoing” things, it was the first time Justin had experienced the other man vomiting; Brian had always bragged about his strong stomach and ridiculously high tolerance for numerous substances. Apparently, however, Brian Kinney was no match for high-dose radiation therapy.

There was a long silence after Brian had finished and the toilet flushed, and Justin had debated going in to check on him, but he wanted to do his best to offer Brian the limited privacy he could, realizing that this was probably already a significant wound to Brian’s carefully-crafted dignity, especially surrounding this whole situation. Instead, he quietly got up and refreshed the glass of water on Brian’s bedside table before settling back into the overstuffed pillow and picking up his sketchpad.

Finally, the door slid open and Brian staggered out and flopped back into bed. Justin glanced over as inconspicuously as he could and was slightly alarmed by the grayish pallor of Brian’s face. His hair was sweaty and matted against his forehead, and he generally looked (and probably felt) like death warmed over.

“Need anything?” Justin called out casually, hoping he didn’t sound like he’d been paying much attention.

“No,” Brian croaked weakly, followed by a heavy sigh.

Brian slept for another hour or two and Justin continued his work on Rage drawings. He didn’t realize how immersed he’d become until the pillow dipped beside him as Brian slowly lowered himself down.

“Looks good,” he murmured, peeking over at Justin’s paper.

Justin looked up in surprise. “Hey. Thanks.” He set his pad and paper down on the floor, turning his attention to Brian. “Feeling better?”

Brian shrugged. “Whatever that means.” He glanced back at the bedroom before returning his gaze to Justin. “Thanks for the water refill.”

Justin smiled. “Sure. Want to try eating something? There’s more soup.”

Brian blanched slightly, pressing his lips together, and shook his head.

“No soup? Or no food?” Justin asked, tilting his head as he considered options he’d seen in Brian’s refrigerator.

“Not Deb’s soup,” Brian said, his complexion paling even more. “Don’t want to see it again today.”

“What about just some broth with rice instead of everything else in Debbie’s recipe?” Justin suggested.

Brian contemplated that, then shrugged. “I guess.”

Justin smiled, glad to finally be able to do something helpful for Brian. “Sure.” He headed into the kitchen and pulled out the necessary supplies to make rice and heat some plain chicken broth. A few minutes later, as the broth was simmering, Brian slowly made his way over and sat at the counter.

“You know,” he began, clearing his throat. “You’re not here to take care of me. I don’t need a fucking nursemaid.”

“I’m not, and I’m sure you don’t,” Justin agreed amiably. “But when a person cares about someone else, they occasionally do nice things to make their life easier.”

Brian rolled his eyes, but Justin could tell that he was also suppressing a smirk.

They chatted idly as Justin finished preparing their meals, throwing together a quick sandwich for himself, and then they ate in front of the TV with a random episode of CSI that provided background noise but not much else. Brian looked like he was barely staying awake enough to sip at his broth, and Justin was more focused on paying attention to Brian without looking like he was paying attention to Brian.

“Gonna lie down,” Brian mumbled when he’d finished and allowed Justin to collect his bowl. Justin could tell that he was trying to maintain the illusion of simply feeling tired, but it was apparent that even moving to the bedroom was a struggle.

Justin watched to make sure Brian made it to the bed, and then went back to the kitchen to clean up. He was just drying the soup ladle to put back in the drawer when he heard Brian start to moan. Immediately, his brain sprung into action, remembering Brian’s sluggish movements, and knowing that if this was going to be a repeat performance from earlier, there was no way Brian would make it to the bathroom.

A quick glance around the kitchen revealed a basin tucked under the sink, so Justin grabbed it and dashed into the bedroom, kneeling on the ledge of the bed so he could place the receptacle in Brian’s lap.

The look in Brian’s eyes as they made contact with Justin’s was hard to read, but more than anything, Justin could see just how miserable and helpless he felt as he gave in to his body and vomited into the basin.

After watching long enough to determine that Brian now had sufficient control of the situation, Justin moved quickly into the bathroom, retrieving some washcloths and wringing them out with cool water. When he returned, it looked like Brian had lost everything he’d consumed since waking up, and had moved on to dry heaves. Justin didn’t say anything, but gently wiped Brian’s forehead, and then placed a cool cloth on the back of his neck, hoping to provide him a little bit of relief.

When it seemed like Brian had finished, Justin moved the basin to the side and handed Brian another cloth to wipe his mouth and a tissue to blow his nose, which, along with his eyes, had started watering during the process. Justin wasn’t sure if the latter was due to the vomiting or something else, but he knew that the last thing he needed to do was call attention to any perceived weakness Brian displayed, in addition to what he’d already witnessed.

“Do you want to brush your teeth?” Justin asked, not sure if Brian even had the strength to get out of bed at this point, but he wanted Brian to have the option to make that call or not. Fortunately, the older man shook his head, and slumped back down against his pillows.

Justin took the basin into the bathroom, flushed the contents down the toilet and washed it out as best he could. He figured once Brian fell asleep again, he would sanitize it in the kitchen.

Sleep came sooner than later, as Brian appeared to be dozing again when Justin stepped out of the bathroom, so he started to head back down to the kitchen, but Brian’s soft, gravelly voice stopped him briefly in his tracks.

“Thanks.”

***

Fortunately, Brian slept through the night, and actually woke before Justin the next morning.

“How long have you been up?” Justin asked, seeing Brian standing in the kitchen, dressed for work and making toast.

Brian shrugged, popping two pieces of 12-grain bread into the toaster for Justin. “An hour or so.”

“Do you need to go into the office?” Justin asked, trying to keep his tone curious. He didn’t want Brian to think that his judgment was being questioned, but Justin had now also witnessed firsthand the aftereffects of Brian’s radiation treatments, and knew that later that night wouldn’t likely be too different.

At first, it looked like Brian wanted to roll his eyes, but after a beat, he reconsidered. “I just want something to feel normal,” he offered instead, his eyes silently pleading for Justin to understand.

Justin nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll come home after my treatment,” Brian acquiesced, grateful for the lack of pushback.

“Good.” Justin walked over to Brian and wrapped his arms around him.

Brian hugged him back, bending down to accommodate him. As he pulled him closer, he leaned in to Justin’s ear and whispered, “It’s my last one.”

Justin pulled back in surprise and looked up at Brian, beaming. “You’re done today?”

“I’m done.”

Justin’s grin took on additional wattage. “And then that’s it?”

Brian shrugged, unable to fight his own smile. “They say they got it all so… it won’t be official until the final results come in, but yeah, it should be.”

They stood for a moment, eyes searching each other, and then Justin pulled Brian’s face to his, capturing his lips. It was the first kiss they’d shared since the day Brian had kicked Justin out of the loft, and it felt more like Justin coming home than Brian cared to admit. 

When they pulled apart, Justin kept smiling, and Brian looked down a little nervously, fiddling with the end of his tie. Sensing the other’s apprehension, Justin elected to speak first. “I’m so proud of you. You’re so fucking strong for going through all of this. I just wish you hadn’t done it yourself. You didn’t have to.”

At first, Brian looked like he wanted to argue, but he opened his mouth and then closed it again, remaining silent while Justin tended to the toaster, pulling out his breakfast before it burned.  Justin had buttered his toast and taken a bite by the time Brian decide what he wanted to say. “But I needed to. I just… this shit isn’t easy for me, Justin. You of all people know that.”

Justin chewed slowly, contemplating Brian’s words. “You’re right. I do know that. But you know how I know? Because you’re my partner. And we let each other in when something’s not right. Maybe not always, but when it counts. And this fucking counted, Brian.” He set his plate down and stepped closer, wanting to make sure that Brian understood how sincere he was; that this was not an attempt to berate him or make him feel bad, but rather to help him understand its importance.

“I didn’t want you to see me like that,” Brian said quietly, not meeting Justin’s gaze, knowing that if he did, his composure might not survive the conversation.

“I get that,” Justin said, unwinding Brian’s fingers from his tie and taking his hand, squeezing it. “But you know, I did see you, and I’m glad, because fuck knows what you would’ve done if you’d puked all over your duvet--”

Brian smirked a little, shaking his head, although not disagreeing. 

“-- but really, Brian,” Justin continued. “You saw me when I could barely keep my shit together, when I was freaking out over ridiculous things, when I couldn’t even write my own goddamn name with a pencil. I mean, if you want to get _really_ technical, you’ve even had my blood all over you, because in the absolute worst moment of my life, you were the one there, holding me, supporting me, and making sure I would be okay.”

Brian winced, and Justin saw a shudder roll through his body. “You can’t possibly compare this to… that,” he argued, clearing his throat. 

“Did you have any qualms about being there? Any regret?” Justin asked, ignoring Brian’s retort. “Did you have anywhere else in the world you would’ve wanted to be in those moments?”

“Never.” The word came out as barely more than a breath, but Justin heard it loud and clear.

Justin tilted his head down, forcing Brian to meet his gaze. When the latter finally raised his head, his eyes were glassy with emotion.

“Well it’s three years later, and I’m still here. Because I _want_ to be. Because you’re my partner, and I love you, and I want to be there for you, whether it involves getting bad news, or offering a shoulder to cry on, or going to doctor’s appointments, or holding the fucking bucket while you throw up a bowl of soup. I didn’t just sign up for the good stuff, and neither did you, but you proved it long before I ever had to.” Justin finished his speech with a defiant nod of his head, daring Brian to challenge him; he didn’t.

“I… I guess I don’t really know what you want me to say,” Brian admitted, running a finger along his lower eyelid and wiping the resulting moisture on his pant leg.

Justin shrugged, returning to his toast, sensing that Brian needed a little space to collect himself. “I don’t want you to say anything you don’t mean.”

Brian nodded, tongue tucked firmly into his cheek as he considered that. “I don’t regret how I handled this. I get what you’re saying, but I’m also asking you to try to understand that it’s what I needed to do,” he said finally, his voice still hoarse with emotion. “Though, I suppose I’m sorry for being a dick about it. I know you did what you did because you care.”

He and Justin both exchanged amused smirks before he continued. 

“And I-I’m glad you were here last night. I didn’t think I would be but, honestly, it was a relief to have someone else around. I mean… not someone else. But, _you._ ”

Justin pressed his lips together in a small, grateful smile and nodded once, silently acknowledging what Brian’s words meant to him, and their implied meaning.

“And,” Brian continued, an edge of finality in his tone. “I don’t ever fucking want to go through this _ever_ again. But, if I had to… I know you’d be there, and I’d want you to be.”

“I would,” Justin agreed. “Thank you.”

Brian cleared his throat again and tried to smile, reaching out for Justin to come back over to him. “Now can we get back to the part where we’re celebrating that I’m fucking DONE with this shit after today?”

Justin obliged and pulled Brian back down for another kiss, granting his request. “When you’re feeling up to it again,” he said as they parted, “I promise I will give you the best blowjob of your life.” 

“Jesus,” Brian moaned, his eyes growing wistful at the prospect. “If I could will my left nut healed instantly, you’d be getting on your knees right now. It’s not fair to tempt the impaired, Sunshine.”

Justin grinned, his finger gently teasing the front of Brian’s zipper as he started to move past him, heading back to the bedroom to get ready for his day.

“It’s not fair,” Justin echoed, pausing long enough to look over his shoulder, knowing full well that Brian’s eyes immediately gravitated to his ass. “But I am happy to give you all the motivation you need to get better as quickly as possible.” 

Brian watched him saunter away, complete with the impish tossing of his briefs out of the bathroom once they’d been discarded.

_Who the fuck am I kidding?_ Brian thought to himself, shaking his head. _There’s no way in hell I will ever NOT need that._  
  



End file.
